The Informant
by Mione'sMinion
Summary: When the headmasters secrets are exposed, Hermione does the only thing she knows how. She learns. She accepts. She spies. She teaches. And somehow falls in love in the progress.
1. The Beginning

AN: okay, this is my first Harry Potter fanfiction I've ever really clicked with and decided to dedicate myself to, so please be kind. Constructive criticism is accepted graciously as long as it's given that way ;)

Characters and the world belong to JK Rowling, I'm just playing with it a while :D

-Daisy

Chapter One

I had seen Harry stand and follow Katie. Honestly she'd only just returned from St Mungo's. Give a girl time to settle back in.

"How are you?" He asked her. _How do you think she is, Harry? She wants to be left alone._

Katie huffed and turned around. "I'm fine, Harry, and I know you're going to ask. Honestly, everyone is. I don't know who attacked me. I've been trying to remember, but I just _can't_." Katie explained almost apologetically.

My best friend nodded. "Thank you, Katie. And, y'know, I'm sorry." He turned to sit, sighed and smile a bit at Ron. He had stolen Harrys treacle tart directly from his plate.

I wanted to laugh with them, but my eyes were fixed upon Katie's face as her friendly smile towards McClaggen changed to one of fear and confusion.

I followed her gaze down the path between the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws tables to the entrance of the dining hall, where Draco Malloy had just stopped in his tracks, staring at Katie Bell.

His lip curled up and the skin around his eyes had tightened, his already pale complexion whitening even further. His eyes flickered to the head table and his hand reached into his pocket, turning slightly.

I reached for the pocket my robes for my wand, but as my fingertips grazed the vine wood, Malfoy pivoted and started to briskly walk away.

Harry and Ron were droning on about the upcoming match against Slytherin as I stood. I looked over at them and murmured distractingly, "I'll find you guys in the common room. I think I left my quills in the library."

I was already hurrying to catch up with Malfoy when I heard Harry offer to let me borrow one of his. I chose to ignore him and quickened my pace, throwing my hand up and wiggling my fingers in a sort of goodbye wave.

_What is he up to? Where is he going?_

I had to push past people coming in for dinner as he turned right at the end of the hall. I was just starting up the staircase as he veered off on the next floor, beyond my sight.

Classes are over for the day, and he's on the wrong floor for the owlery. Maybe he's going to see a friend in Hufflepuff.

Inner me scoffed. _Yeah right Hermione, because he _can _or _would _be friends with anyone other than snakes._

When I reached the third floor I looked around. I couldn't discern where he'd gone. He could've gone right, leading to a balcony or the prefects lounge, or the left, which led to the entrance to the Headmasters Office. And then there was the room straight ahead. Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

I didn't think he'd be eager to see the headmaster if what I'd deduced was correct, and he wasn't a prefect. I rolled the dice and eased my way forwards, determined to be as quiet as possible since I wanted to catch him in whatever evil act he was sure to be committing.

I heard a scuffle ahead and bit my lip, sliding my wand from my pocket and into my hands. I debated on sliding off my robe and decided to leave it behind a towering statue of a past headmaster. They could get in the way if I needed to defend herself.

I tip toed my way forward and peeled my head around the door. What I saw made my eyes go wide and my mouth drop open in a gasp of surprise.

Draco Malfoy was crying. The pure blood perpetrator of my past was crying big fat tears in big gasping sobs bent over the girls bathroom sink. His white blonde hair hung in his eyes and his shirt clung to his sweaty form slightly as he jerked, eyes meeting mine in the mirror.

Horror dawned on his features, morphing quickly to anger. He whirled around, wand in hand, and I reacted instinctively.

"Expelliarmus!" I exclaimed, catching his wand with my left hand as his mouth curled into a snarl. I held it to my chest and kept my wand trained on him.

The water dripping around us was all I heard for a moment, and then his arms came up and he lifted his chin. He resembled a pale, angry version of Christ on the cross.

"Go ahead, then. Do it. You know you want to, Granger, don't pretend otherwise." He welcomed, the angry sneer dropping as he closed his eyes.

My eyebrows shot up, then furrowed. "You...you cursed Katie Bell."

His eyes shot open and his arms fell to his sides. He almost looked relieved, but his expression was quickly schooled behind an impassive mask.

"I did no such thing. What a _stupid_ thing to accuse someone of. Where. Is. Your. Proof?" He enunciated clearly and quietly. _Dangerously_, the voice in my mind provides. _His voice sounds dangerous._

I kept my voice quiet, and my mouth was dry. "Harry followed you to Borgin and Burkes." His eyes rolled and I licked my lips, drawings his gaze. "You probably got the necklace there. Then I saw you at The Three Broomsticks, and that's where Maggie Dupry noticed Katie acting odd after she returned from the loo."

"So what, Granger? Plenty of people were there." He sneered.

But I was on a roll. _I'm right, I know I am._ "And she can't remember what happened. Trust that one small detail. Yet...when she looked at you, she seemed scared, but confused. And when you saw her, you were terrified, yet...somehow relieved."

Their breathing filled the space when I fell silent, still aiming my wand at the blonde boys chest. His breaths were harsh and tight, and his face was caught between anger and impassiveness.

Why wasn't he saying anything? He wasn't defending himself or even looking at me. A few minutes seemed to pass, and he was looking near my feet when he spoke.

"It was me," he whispered. When he drug his eyes to mine, I was dumbfounded at the tears that glittered there, at the way his lips turned down and trembled. When he confessed again in another whisper and fell to his knees, I let my arm fall.

"It was me, Granger." This boy who looked like Draco Malfoy sobbed. This couldn't possibly be him. The Draco Malfoy i knew sneered and jeered and teased and was a racist bigoted asshole. This Draco Malfoy was foreign to me. A sad, desperate boy with pain on his face and his hands tangled in his hair as he sobbed. It made my heart ache. Also, seeing anyone in this much pain because of something they'd done, obviously meant they regretted it. _Right?_

I knelt and stretched back, the bottom of my skirt dragging he damp floor, and set our wands beside the door. He tensed at the noise of my movements but only looked up as I moved closer.

His bloodshot eyes were flooded with tears that kept falling, and his hands were limp against his knees, palms up and open. His hair was a wreck and for the first time I noticed his vest crumpled by the first stall to my right. His tie was loose and the top two buttons were undone. He looked a mess.

"Malfoy...why?" My Boise was a whisper.

More tears fell from his eyes.

"I didn't mean to curse Katie. I _swear_ I didn't, Granger!" He said desperately, his words seemingly a plea.

_I knew that already. _

"Of course you didn't." His head jerked in surprise, eye brows slightly raised. "You were meaning to curse Dumbledore."


	2. Assembling

**AN: So I know I'm not the best writer, but I am trying. It's been a year and a half since I've written anything. I was dealing with my pregnancy and the birth and first year of my sons life. **

**Forever, he characters and the world belong to JK Rowling. I'm just playing in it. **

Chapter 2

The silence rang like a bell between us, my eyes searching his for an answer to my statement. His face had settled into inexpressive slackness, but his grey eyes looked haunted.

Before I could open my mouth to speak, I heard the hushed whispers of dragging robes swishing down the corridor. The Hufflepuffs were going to their dorm. Dinner must've ended.

"Dinner's over, Draco. Would you like to come with me to the headmasters office?" I asked. I crossed my arms over myself and pinched my lips shut.

He stood quickly and stumbled forward slightly, his shoes producing a loud squeak on the tile. "No! _Please_, Granger. _Please_. I'll explain everything. I'll tell you _everything_." He said, rushing forward to grab my shoulders. His eyes were wide and wild as he begged me. His face was an odd contrast to his body, which towered over mine, making me feel vulnerable and small, even with all I knew.

"Don't go to Dumbledore. I won't do anything like that again. It was an accident. No one was supposed to get hurt. I'm sorry, Granger. _I'm sorry!_" He pleaded.

I stared hard into his eyes as my arms came up to push his hands away from my shoulders.

"You're going to meet me. In the room of requirement. Tonight at eleven. Be there or I'm going directly to Dumbledore."

His breathing was heavy. "Okay. I'll be there."

I nodded.

When I got to the common room, Harry and Ron were sitting at one of the tables along the side wall, closest to the fireplace. As usual, they were playing wizards chess.

They looked up as I walked in and smiled.

"Hey, 'Mione!" They chorused.

"Hey guys. I'm gonna go to bed. I'm not feeling very well." I couldn't talk to them tonight. I wasn't thinking straight, clearly. I should've went straight to Dumbledore. Maybe I still would.

"Aww, Hermione! I thought you would look over my potions paper for me." Ron whined.

Harry shot him a look. "Yeah, 'Mione. Well, not what he said. I was hoping you'd like to play a game of exploding snap before I have to meet Dumbledore."

"Headmaster Dumbledore, Harry!" I sighed. I turned back towards them and offered a wobbly smile, trying to appear normal enough to convince them.

"I'm sorry, boys. I am tired and a little nauseated though, and I wanted to get plenty of rest for Hogsmeade tomorrow. See you tomorrow for breakfast?"

Harry's face shone with concern as he nodded. "Of course. You get some sleep. If you feel any worse later you can come wake us and we'll take you to the hospital wing."

Ron just nodded his acceptance and spoke with his mouth full of cookie. "-ood-ight, 'Mi."

I grinned wholeheartedly as I turned around, rolling my eyes. Honestly, dinner had only been over a half hour. Who could eat that much?

It was only 8:30 when I made my way into my dormitory. Lavender was already in her bed with the curtains drawn, crying softly enough that I could barely hear.

She was depressed over her breakup with Ron. She stared at him at mealtimes with tears in her eyes, gazing between Ron and myself as if we had been snogging directly in front of her. She glared at me in Arithmancy, and followed me to Potions where she stared at Ron even more. She cried in the common room by the fire and when we'd walk in, she'd cry even harder. I'd honestly thought she was faking at first. Dramatic, as always. Until the first night after their breakup, when I'd entered our dormitory to hear her crying softly, just as she was now, a week later.

I felt a little bad but I couldn't think about her now. I could only do her a small kindness by aiming a _silencio_ at her bed curtains.

I sat heavily on the trunk at the end of my bed and sighed. I had a lot to think about.

Malfoy had cursed Katie Bell, but he'd said it was an accident. No one was supposed to get hurt, he'd said. That didn't quite make sense though, unless he thought Dumbledore would realize it was cursed and not touch it.

Judging by the blackening of his hand though, he obviously wasn't that skilled in curse detection. Malfoy probably hadn't given that a second thought however. No one seemed to have.

Except Professor Snape. He looked at the headmaster constantly, watching his every move when the headmaster was around. But he'd been absent a lot lately, especially from meals.

I stood and grabbed my notebook and a muggle pen, quickly jotting down what I already knew. I laid sideways on my bed and started to really think.

What about the mead? It was supposed to be a present from Professor Slughorn to Headmaster Dumbledore. It had been poisoned. Had that been Draco? Had he been the one to inadvertently poison Ron?

Dumbledore was a _genius_. How could he not know? And according to Harry, Professor Snape had taken an unbreakable vow for Malfoy.

An unbreakable vow. Snape. Had taken an unbreakable vow. For Malfoy. Who was trying to kill Dumbledore.

So Malfoy was trying to become a death eater, or he already was. And Snape was already a death eater. A spy, inner me corrected.

BLOODY FUCKING HELL! Dumbledore knew! He fucking knew. And he hadn't done anything!

And I knew why. I stood and began to pace. I had a lot to do before meeting with Malfoy. Including going to Headmaster Dumbledore's office and getting some answers.

I needed to play this carefully.

I needed to talk to Professor Snape. And I knew exactly how to do it.

I passed Harry on my way out of the common room. He was sweaty and panting.

"Hey, Hermione," He wheezed. "Sorry I ran here. Trying to beat Filch. Dumbledore forgot to write me a pass and he was right behind me. Where are you off to?"

I wracked my brain for an excuse, finally stuttering out, "Lavender kicked me out. Y'know...cause of Ron. I was gonna sleep in the room of requirement."

His brow furrowed and he glanced down at my jeans and t-shirt. I must've passed some kind of inspection, because he offered me his map. "D'you need the cloak too?"

I loved Harry. He knew I wasn't going to the room to sleep. He wasn't an idiot, and I wasn't the best liar. I grinned a bit. "Yes thank you. I'd appreciate it."

I left through the portrait hole not ten minutes later at 10:15, cloaked and armed with my wand and the magical map.


	3. ProfessorSnape

AN: So I'd like to say thank you to the three of you that have reviewed my story so far! ZombiAlli, Qween87, and Riaroo400, thank you so much!

An extra special thank you to ZombiAlli, for being the best sister a girl could ask for, and for letting me bounce ideas off of your head as needed :D

Thank you also to the 5 people that favorited my story! I will cherish your hearts forever!

And for my 20 followers, I'd like to say that, as odd as it sounds, I've always wanted to write for you. I hope you enjoyed the first two chapters, I hope you love the next, and I hope you adore the rest 3

FEEDBACK IS LOVE, FEEDBACK IS LIFE! Pm me if you wouldn't want to put it into a review!

As always, this world belongs to JK Rowling. I'm just playing.

-Daisy

**Chapter 3 **

Even with the cloak and map, I still crept along the wall. I'd already tripped over the front of the cloak once because I was looking at the map so I'd put it away until I reached my destination safely. The gossamer fabric was translucent, but not transparent. I had to really pay attention to make sure I was headed in the right direction.

I'd already passed the Ravenclaw prefects; it must've been their night to patrol. They'd been rounding up a couple of fourth years from my own house that they'd caught kissing in a closet. _Honestly, it's just plain embarrassing. Why couldn't they have done that in the common room?_

I tried to keep my steps light, which was why I'd worn my trainers, but it was hard. When I'd left after curfew with Harry and Ron I hadn't noticed how silent the castle was. That was probably due to the fact that they were as loud as a hypogriff.

The stones seemed to seep more and more moisture the deeper I went into the castle, providing an extra chill. The air seemed almost cleaner down here, but I couldn't fathom why. I'd never noticed a difference before, but it was glaring now.

As I approached the Potions classroom, I started to sweat. I didn't want to get in serious trouble. It was beyond my nature to break the rules and purposefully get caught but it's what I needed to do.

I checked my watch. 10:25. I needed to hurry.

I grasped the potions classroom door handle and turned it. To my surprise it opened quite easily.

I shut the door behind me and removed the cloak, drawing my wand to shrink it and put it in my back pocket.

"Lumos." My wands bright light filled the blackness ahead of me and dread filled my stomach. I hadn't been in here after curfew since third year, and that adventure hadn't exactly ended well. My memories of being covered in fur made me shudder.

The gargoyle wasn't spitting water into the basin, the blackboard was empty, and the store room door was shut. I could see the wards glittering in the light of my wand.

I was sure he had more severe wards than he did years ago, thanks to a certain bushy haired thief. However, to my relief, I didn't actually need to steal anything. I just needed to get his attention.

I edged my way forward and stuck my wand handle first into the pocket of my jeans. It wouldn't do to drop it.

I lifted my hand, took a deep breath, and touched the door.

Immediately I was jerked up, lifted by my feet and stuck to the ceiling. My arms were stuck by my sides, my right hand directly beside the handle of my wand. My hair was the worst part. I couldn't imagine the volume and unruliness it would show after this.

_At least your shirt didn't ride up, Hermione. You have bigger things to worry about, _inner me scolded.

The door opened.

The smooth baritone of the potions master slithered across the classroom like a snake. Ha! Accurate.

"Well, well, Miss Granger. How positively..._delicious_...that _you_ should be the one caught in my trap. I cannot honestly say I'm surprised. What ever did you try to steal from me now?"

"Oh Professor Snape, I wasn't trying to steal any-"

He interrupted me. "A _likely_ story, I'm sure. I'll just retrieve the headmaster, shall I?" He turned to leave.

"Wait, Professor! I need-" He was still leaving. "I know what he's asked you to do! I know everything!"

He turned slowly, and his thin lips curled into a snarl. His lank inky hair _almost_ made it seem as if his head was blending into the darkness. His cloak was such a dark black that his face and the slight shine of his shoes were all I could discern in the black potions room.

"If anyone _could_, it would be you, wouldn't it?" His voice came rough. "Know it all."

All at once I was twirling through the air, landing upright on my feet, stumbling and almost falling over. Spots swam into my vision, the excess blood rushing from my brain back into my body. I gripped the edge of a desk tightly as my sight returned to normal, and when I could see, I saw a hand.

Professor Snape held the potion in his outstretched hand and raised a brow.

"Thank you," I whispered, my bravery dissipating at the unexpected close proximity of my potions professor. I uncorked the vial and waved my hand, wafting the scent towards my nose. A pepper up.

I took a sip and felt the discomforting steam whistle through my ears.

"It appears...that we have a great deal to discuss, Miss Granger." He backed away. _How did he billow backwards?_

He waved his hand and every other candle along the wall furthest from me lit. My mouth dropped in awe. Wandless magic was difficult. Wandless _and_ silent was almost unheard of.

He led me to another corner of his classroom, where part of the wall had opened, revealing a narrow passage lit with a singular candle.

I followed closely behind him, almost stepping on his cloak at one point, as we descended 9 steep steps. The passageway opened into a cozy sitting room.

Directly to my left was a door and along the wall was a couch and a side table. Two matching mahogany and forest green wingback chairs dominated the area in front of the fireplace on the back wall. There was a small round table between them, a teacup and a book resting upon its small—tiny—surface.

Directly to my right, however, was what took my notice and robbed me of my breath.

There was an intricate mahogany door with iron strap hinges directly in the center of the wall. Surrounding the door was a wall filled to bursting with books.

I gulped. Potions texts seemed to dominate the area but there were tomes from all nonfiction genres.

Professor Snape clearers his throat. "Come, Miss Granger. Your little...stunt...pulled me away from my evening tea. Join me for a cup."

I nodded. "This might take a while. Might as well." I smiled politely with a genuineness that I didn't feel as I moved to seat myself in the obviously least used chair.

He waited to seat himself after I had, and snapped off his cloak, hanging it on a crooked hook beside his mantle.

He conjured an extra teacup and vanished his cold tea, reheating the teapot with a point of his finger.

"How do you take your tea?"

I looked into his face, surprised. "I'm sorry, what?"

His expression flattened further. "How. Do you. Take. Your _tea_?" He spoke slowly.

I could feel my cheeks redden and coughed slightly. "Yeah, right, um... just a little milk please. Sugar is bad-"

"For the teeth, Miss Granger. Yes, thank you. I am aware."

I blushed again.

After he'd made our tea and I sat awkwardly holding the oddly colored teacup, Professor Snape leaned back and sipped from his.

This was an oddly intimate thing—to be having tea with my surly potions professor.

_IN HIS QUARTERS!_

He looked over at me, and waved his arm as if to say, _'well do go on.'_

I cleared my throat. "Well—sir—I feel as if I should tell you I know you have taken an unbreakable vow to protect Draco Malfoy."

His expression hadn't changed. "And? This is commonplace for many godparents Miss Granger."

"Yes, well, I hadn't actually known that."

He snickered and I glared, but continued after a beat.

"And Draco Malfoy cursed Katie Bell, and he poisoned Ron, though not on purpose!" I hastened to add.

His face completely closed off. "Get to the part about Dumbledore. I do not want to hear _baseless_ accusations."

"I'm building up to it!" I snapped.

"Well build faster Miss Granger!"

"You're going to kill Headmaster Dumbledore, and you're going to do it because he _wants you to!_" I spat.

Silence fell upon my lips then as the firelight dimmed and Professor Snape stood and stuck a poker into the fire, jostling a log. He turned with the black iron held tightly in his grasp, the pointy end glowing red.

"Well, well Miss Granger. What am I _possibly_ to do with you now?"


	4. Stress

AN: I FIGURED OUT HOW TO DO THE LINES WHEN TYPING ON MY PHONE!! Yaaaaay!!!! OR NOT :'(

I love you all for favoriting and following this story. You all give me so much confidence 3 I want to make this story great for you all and I hope I live up to your expectations. Please review and tell me what you think! Pms welcome :D

As always, the world belongs to JK Rowling. I'm just playing in it

-Daisy

I stood abruptly, the beautiful chair upon which I'd been seated scraping back against the stone.

"What are you doing?" I screeched.

"Oh calm your knickers, Granger!" His voice thundered. "Do you honestly think I'd harm you with a fucking _poker?! _Sit down!"

I sat. It had been ingrained in me to listen to this terrifying man, and so I did, eyeing the end of the poker as the red faded to black and he set it back in its stand.

"You're a bit dramatic, did you know?" I asked, angry and more than just a little embarrassed.

His left brow rose, but he said nothing.

"How did you figure it out?" He asked simply, sitting and leaning back in his chair. His hair covered half his face as he traced his lips with one finger.

"Honestly, sir, I'm surprised no one else has. Malfoy should have taken more care to hide his emotions if he didn't want to get caught. But I actually think he wanted to be discovered, sir. He's been very sloppy. It wouldn't be hard to assassinate Dumbledore if you really put your back into it, pardon my expression."

He nodded, a thoughtful look on his face. "And what did you think having this information would do?"

I stared. "_What the fuck do you mean, 'what did you think_ _having_ _this_ _information_ _would_ _do_?' I want to help. I want Professor Dumbledore to _survive_, Professor! Harry needs him! He hasn't told him hardly anything at all! He's been looking for a goddamn _memory_ all fucking term!" By the end of my little tirade, I was shouting and my eyes were filled with tears. I slumped into my seat. "How are we supposed to save the world with no information, sir?"

He pressed my teacup back into my hand. "Drink your tea, Miss Granger."

I did. "Now, Miss Granger. I am sorry to be the one to inform you, but Headmaster Dumbledore _must_ die before the end of the term."

Tears filled my eyes. "But why? Why would he want _you_ to kill him?"

"Have you noticed his arm?"

I nodded. "Yes I know he will likely die anyhow in a few years but-"

"_Months_, Miss Granger. Headmaster Dumbledore has but a few months left, and he will deteriorate mentally in the last few weeks. Potter doesn't need to see him that way. He wants to be a martyr for the cause, and also, because Draco Malfoy is a death eater. And _this_ is his task."

The blood rushed from my face and I stood, beginning to pace in front of the fireplace. "Why would Voldemort-"

"Do _not_ speak his name!" He snapped, and I noticed his left hand clenched into a fist.

"Apologies. Why would You-Know-Who give him such a seemingly impossible task?"

"Why, Miss Granger, so he would fail of course. And the Dark Lord would _delight_ in killing him to punish his father."

My head whirled. "And...and that's where the unbreakable vow comes in, right?"

He snapped his fingers. "Right."

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "So this is going to happen. He's going to completely ruin our chances by dying, and alienating our only spy."

His lips curled into a small grin. It looked odd on his face, which was all too often sneering and angry.

"Why do you think I have not obliviated you, Miss Granger? You, I say, shall be the world's savior."

My mind whirled as I slowly walked away from the potions room. It was well past two in the morning, and I saw no reason to hurry to the room of requirement now.

How could it all unfold this way? How could the fate of the wizarding world—hell, the whole world—all hinge on four teens and a professor. Jesus, it might just hinge on one teen and a professor. And that teen was _me_. I paused to lean my head against the stone of the wall, the coolness seeping into my forehead and calming me slightly.

Professor Snape and I had occlumency lessons planned for Wednesday nights at five. I couldn't wait, even if the reason for needing the lessons terrified me.

I had the map in front of me so I could travel without the cloak. It really was difficult to see through, and it was discerning to be invisible anyway.

The trip to the room took longer than I'd anticipated, and when I got there, the room appeared immediately. I hadn't had to pace or think about what I wanted or gaining entry to see Malfoy.

My eyes narrowed as I armed myself and slipped the map away with a whispered, "mischief managed."

The sight that met me took my breath away.

Draco Malfoy, the previous bane of my existence, sat at a blue baby grand piano, head on his arms, fast asleep. He'd fallen asleep without knowing what to expect and waiting for me to come through the doors.

I took a moment to take in the room, in awe of the beautiful intricate blue on blue swirling and the humongous chandelier hanging from the ceiling. The crystals cast light in patterns all over the floor, reminiscent of a muggle disco ball. Ornate carvings adorned four columns that formed a square, and inside the square there was a small platform.

The blue piano was a work of art, but the really awe worthy sight was Draco Malfoy as he slept.

His face was slack, and it was hard to deny his handsomeness. White blonde hair hung down his forehead, and his eyelids were a dusty pale pink. Angular cheekbones with a rigid jawline made him a girl magnet at Hogwarts, but I'd never seen it. I did now. His bottom lip was plump and his top lip almost formed a bow. I'd always thought he looked pointy, but now I saw he had a very grecian face.

I started to wake him, but stopped just short of my hand touching his shoulder.

I breathed deeply and silently asked the room for a bed. Two, I corrected silently. If he could trust me enough to fall asleep, I could do the same.

A writing desk also appeared along the wall between two twin beds adorned in green and red.

I penned him a note quickly and climbed into bed, falling asleep almost as soon as my head touched the pillow. It was three in the morning after all. We'd talk when he woke.


	5. Rooms

AN:I hope you all like this chapter. As you've noticed, it's moving pretty slowly so far but it'll speed up later. Pinky promise lol

Thank you for promising me your hearts and following this story. I hope to do you justice 3

As always, the world is owned by JK Rowling, and I'm just playing

-Daisy

..................

When I awoke hours later, the room had changed. The walls were a light green color and the floors were soft oak, warm against my toes as I stood. There was a single lit candle in the center of every wall, which made the corners look dark and slightly frightening.

I glanced over at the bed next to mine and was surprised to see it was further apart than it had been when I'd gone to sleep. Malfoy was under the sheet and the green comforter was crumpled at the foot of the bed.

Gone was the writing desk, and in its place was a small fireplace. It cause a coil of uneasiness to appear in my belly to realize everything had changed around me while I'd slept and I hadn't been disturbed in the slightest. I could've woken in a completely different manner. I shook the feeling away quickly.

On the mantle were a few frames, but I couldn't see what they held. The wall opposite to me housed an extravagant couch with two side tables that doubled as small bookshelves. Two dragon figurines graced each table, facing one another. An oval blue rug completed the ensemble, hundreds of tassels decorating the outside.

There were two separate doors along the right wall, and a quick peek in each door revealed a beautiful bathroom and an unbelievably dark closet.

I deliberated on whether or not to wake Malfoy and, looking at a clock on the wall to see it was only 7 am, laid back down to try to get some more rest. Thankfully Harry knew I was sleeping here, though that hadn't exactly been the plan.

Honestly, I wasn't too excited about the conversation we were about to have. My brain and my heart were exhausted. My conversation with Snape had been more taxing that I'd thought. As I was contemplating his life, and mine, and that of the boy's beside me, I began to drift off.

And then he began to talk.

"Yes. Yes of course."

I was drug from the realm of Almost Sleepland and sat up, startled. He was grimacing in his sleep, his top lip flattening and his brows furrowed.

"I know, Mother. Don't worry."

His head began to turn this way and that, and I could see the candlelight flicker off of the sweat on his skin, and only _then_ did I notice he was shirtless. The sheet covered most of his body but I could see his shoulders and collarbones. His skin there was the same alabaster as his face and hands. Unblemished and milky.

"No! I don't want it! No! _Nooooooooooooo_!" He howled, and then he quieted.

I'd been staring at him in shock, and I jumped as his eyes opened and landed on mine.

"Granger," he breathed.

"Malfoy." I nodded, clutching the covers to my chest.

His eyes followed the motion and I imagined he'd blushed—the lighting was too dim to tell for sure.

"Uh, could you maybe. . . look away?"

I felt the heat in my cheeks and knew they were bright red. If I couldn't see his, maybe he couldn't see mine. I couldn't fathom why I was so comfortable falling asleep in the same room—really, a completely different room—but I was shy about waking up with him there.

"Yeah, of course! I'm sorry!" I glued my eyes to my bedspread, the gold stitching standing out against the burgundy cloth.

I heard some rustling and looked up when I heard a door shut.

I heard the tell-tale sound of urination coming from the loo and blushed even harder.

I stood quickly and hastened to grab my socks and trainers from beside the bed. I wasn't sure why facing him with my piggies showing sounded so intimidating, but it did, and I needed to be as comfortable as I could be. My hair was already impossibly ratty, even after pulling it through an elastic.

When he emerged from the loo, he'd donned his school shirt from the day prior. I was sitting on the couch reading an interesting tome about endangered beetles of South Africa. Well, not really reading. More like staring blankly at the words and trying to think of what exactly to say.

He sat as far away as he could and looked at me.

"So, Granger, I wasn't hauled out of here by aurors, or expelled, so out with it. What did Dumbledore say? I assume you went to him, or else _why would you keep me waiting until the bloody fucking morning when you said you'd be here at eleven_?" His voice was bitter and raw, and his hands were tense on his knees.

"I, um, didn't exactly go to Dumbledore. I went to see Professor Snape."

If it was possible, he tensed even further, the whites of his knuckles showing throughout his skin.

"And why, _exactly_, would you do that?" He asked through gritted teeth.

"Because I know. _Everything_."

He stood abruptly, waving his right hand in a slashing motion, turning with it and staring down at me. His nostrils flared and his eyes were filled with fire.

"No the fuck you dont, Granger. You don't know a _single fucking thing _about me."

My chest tightened with a feeling I couldn't describe.

"I know the basics, Malfoy." I stood and grasped his left forearm with my right. "I know about _this_!"

He shoved my shoulders, and I fell back, my head knocking the wooden backing of the couch, making me bite my lip. I could taste the iron of my blood as I stared up at him.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP, GRANGER! YOU KNOW _NOTHING_ ABOUT THIS! NOTHING ABOUT _ME_! DON'T YOU FUCKING SIT THERE TELLING ME YOU KNOW! THAT YOU _UNDERSTAND_! YOU FUCKING DONT!" he roared, spittle flying from his mouth onto the pocket of my t-shirt.

His arms framed my head and his eyes were wild, but when I breathed out a stuttering breath, blood spilling onto my lip, he pulled away. _Because of my blood? Is he afraid I'll get any on him?_

"GODDAMN IT!" He screamed, tossing the pale coffee table that was resting crookedly on the rug. He grabbed one of the dragon statues and threw it into the wall, glass shards flying everywhere. He heaved, but when he went to grab the other, I was there.

I clenched his wrist and looked into his eyes. They were filled with tears and when mine eyes met his, his closed and he heaved brokenly.

"Malfoy, I know it's hard to think about _me_ knowing these parts of you, especially given what I am and what I represent to you and your..._brethren_...but I'm going to help you. We're going to kill Dumbledore. Together."


	6. ThePlan

AN: I LOVE YOU ALL!

Feedback accepted graciously as long as it's given that way ;)

The world belongs to JK Rowling, I'm just playing in it.

_..._

"What the fuck did you just say, Granger?"

I rolled my eyes. "Honestly, Draco. If we're going to commit _murder_ together we should at least be on a first name basis don't you think?"

"No! Because we're not!" He was shaking violently but he hadn't moved. He hadn't declared me crazy and left, or said he didn't need—or want—my help.

"Look, I know this is hard to believe. That you have to do this, and that I'm going to help you, but I am." I grasped his upper arms with my hands and led him back to the couch.

I hadn't known he was holding his breath until it shuddered out of him. A slight grimace settled over his face before it hardened.

"Why would you help me, huh? This is _my_ task for the Dark Lord. What do you think he'd say if he went digging through my mind and saw a _mudblood_ helping me?"

My mouth formed a snarl. "First of all, dont fucking call me that. Second of all, Professor Snape is taking care of that little detail as we speak. By Monday it will be all over school that I am one of the lost Charleston twins. And third, we are going to make sure he can't just go through your memory at will."

It was silent for a moment until he looked into my eyes, grey meeting topaz, and asked, of all things, "Are. . . Are you really a Charleston?"

I rolled my eyes. "_No! _That's beside the point."

He looked at me with what could have resembled pity. "That's too bad, you know. You might've been spared. The Dark Lord will figure it out. I already know occlumency, Granger, but it's no match for his legillimancy."

I smiled. "Hermione. My name is Hermione."

He sighed. "Hermione," he murmured.

"Thank you, Draco. Look, I know this is hard to accept, and I understand, but we have a very limited amount of time, so I need you to hurry through all of your doubt and worry and insecurities and just get to accepting it, okay? I need you to trust me in order to help you close your mind to Vol- . . . You-Know-Who."

"I don't even know how to begin to accept this. I really don't, Granger." At her raised brow, he corrected, "Hermione."

"Well, I am going to explain the plan, and you're going to listen. Don't interrupt. Don't exclaim. Don't ask questiongs until I'm done. Ask the room if you need a notebook."

He leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest, a smirk passing his lips.

"No thanks, Granger. You're not the only one capable of reiteration. I just know how to keep my mouth under control." A thin blonde brow rose.

I gritted my teeth. "Listen, ferret, and listen well. I'm about to help you kill the most important man in Harry's life, after his godfather was murdered last year by your aunt. Do you think you can shut the fuck up and listen to the plan? Or do I need to imperio you to sit there and hear me out?"

The smirk vanished. "No, Granger." He sighed. "Hermione," he corrected himself, "I'm going to make that mistake a lot. Look, I don't like people in my business, I don't know if I can trust you, and snark is my defense. Maybe cut me some slack?"

I cut my eyes to the clock and saw it was eight thirty.

"Can you eat and talk?"

His face showed surprise, but he nodded.

Even though I was against using house elves, I considered this special case. We couldn't very well eat or talk together in the great hall, not yet. I didn't want to run into Harry and Ron on our way to the kitchens, and you never knew who elves allegiances lie with, so I knew with whom this elves lay.

"Dobby!" I called.

Malfoy grimaced and I hid a smile.

He **_POPPED_** in.

"Dobby no longer serves the Malfoys. Dobby is a free elf!" He exclaimed.

"Yes, I know. I know Dobby. Thank you for coming. I love the, um, hats you have on. Is the green one new?" I asked. He must've had on at least ten hats, along with two scarves and a pair of mismatched socks on the outside of his colorful footie pajamas.

He puffed out his chest and grinned. "Dobby be gettings that one froms Mr. Harry Potter, him does. The sockses are froms Headmaster Dumbledore!"

My heart thumped uncomfortably.

"That's great! I do hate to be an inconvenience, but do you think you could bring us up a plate of breakfast each? We're working on a project to help Harry, you see."

"Pretty Young Friend of Harry Potter is workings with _him_?"

"Yes, Dobby. I need his help. Is that ok?"

He looked at Malfoy pointedly. "I is helpings Pretty Young Friend of Harry Potter. I is _nots_ helpings you. And yous do nots gets juice, only water." He snapped his fingers and disappeared, _**POPPING**_ back rather quickly.

With another snap of his bony fingers the coffee table was righted and the trays of food floated themselves down to rest on it.

"Enjoys your foods, Pretty Young Friend of Harry Potter. I hopes you chokes, Misters Malfoys."

He snapped away. Choking on laughter, I called, "Thank you, Dobby!"

He looked at true tray in trepidation. "Is this even safe to eat?"

I snorted. "If even one elf really wanted you dead here a Hogwarts, do you think you'd have survived even one meal in the great hall this year?"

"Noted."

We'd been brought pancakes, bacon and eggs with juice and tea. Well, Malfoy had water and there was only one teacup, but the room could provide another. I vanished his water and conjured a cup to pour him some juice, watching as my cup refilled rapidly. They were spelled along without plates and they would continue to refill until the trays were banished back to the kitchens.

"Don't tell Dobby."

"Would dream of it, Granger. Thank you for the juice."

I peeked at him from the corner of my eye, surprised at his gratitude.

His brow rose. "I'm not a heathen, Gra-Hermione. I have manners."

"I know," I said defensively. "Just not usually towards me."

We fell silent for a moment.

"Look, we are going to have to try to get over the awkwardness, okay? We're going to be in each other's lives for a while yet."

He nodded.

"Okay, so the first part of the plan I've already told you. Snape is going to produce adoption documents that will prove—against any questioning and spell detection—that I am a long lost Charleston twin. And now that I'm a 'pure blood-'" I threw in some air quotes, letting a little irritation bleed into the word, "You will begin trying to get me to notice you in a different manner. Woo me, in other words." I added awkwardly.

He choked on his pancake, coughing and spluttering until he drank. This time, I raised my brow at him.

"Look, it has to seem real. I know you think I'm fucking disgusting and I have dirty blood and all of that bullshite, but this is how we do it. This is how we explain why I helped you."

"And what about after, huh? How are you gonna explain to the golden boy and the weasel that you helped kill the headmaster huh?"

"I'm not. Professor Snape will. You assume just because you can occlude means your mind is closed off all of the time. It's not. He knows you don't want You-Know-Who to win."

His eyes were wide. "And neither does he." I hastened to add. "I'll let him tell you the story. When he's ready, or when you need to know."

"He's my godfather you know. I'm not stupid. I know things. I've suspected. There was a picture in a book once. Uncle Sev and a girl when they were younger. She was dressed like . . . Well, she was dressed like you are now. Like a muggle."

I nodded in acquiesce. "I never said you were stupid. I'm quite aware of your intelligence . . . And also of your status with each of us, myself and Professor Snape. And also with You-Know-Who. You'll be able to talk to your uncle often enough to pass information to the Order of the Phoenix and so will I if need be."

His eyes were wide and he was breathing shallowly.

"You-Know-Who lives in your house. He's expected you to fail. But when you succeed—when _we_ succeed— in killing his longest living rival, you'll be _invaluable_, and I'll be there with you. I'm going to be your wife."


	7. Mother

AN: I've been gone a while, but honestly this chapter kicked my ass and I've been planning my sons first birthday party! Yayyy!

Also, I apologize if my writing sounds a bit jilted; I don't usually write in the first person but wanted to put myself out of my comfort zone a little and see myself in their place.

I want to say thank you to everyone that's reviewed and favorited or followed this story. I love you all :)

-Daisy

As always, this is JK Rowling's world. I'm just playing with it.

Ch 7

"Married." Malfoy repeated for the twelfth time.

"Yes!" I scowled in irritation.

"Why?"

"I've already told you! Your mother is privy to everything your father knows. Malfoy manor is a 'courtesy' extended by your family, and the wives are not expected to take the mark, right?"

He nodded blankly. He still didn't look like he was listening.

"He could demand it, since I am who I am, but I'd like to minimize that risk if I can. I'll also be protected that way from most death eater attacks and I hope to be excused from most fighting. It's going to be very hard for me to act this part, Draco, but I want you to know this is also in your favor. After all of this is over, myself and Professor Snape will be able exonerate you from anything you've had to do."

"But we'll be married."

I growled. "_Yes_! I'm sorry but it's unavoidable! I know I'm a mudblood and you're worried about the Malfoy line or what the fuck ever, but we can divorce directly after the war, alright?"

"You can't pull this off, Granger. You just can't. And I won't be pulled down with you."

"Dumbledore _will_ die before the end of term. You don't have the guts to do it, but I do." He was going to die anyways but Draco didn't need to know that.

"How, huh? How are you going to accomplish what I've been trying to do all year? How are you going to kill the fucking Headmaster of Hogwarts?"

"Well, that's easy, Draco. I'm going to spike his pumpkin juice with cyanide." At his look of confusion, I added, "It's a muggle poison. Magic won't detect it, and death will be almost instant."

"Muggles have things like that?" He asked, face pale.

I laughed. "They have a lot more than that, Malfoy. Try not to think about it."

"Okaaay. I'm still not one hundred percent on the marriage, but it makes sense that detection spells won't notice a muggle poison."

"Look, I need this to work how I've described. I'm not saying things won't change in the heat of the moment or we won't each have to do . . . _things_ we don't want to do. But we need to do what we need to do in order to ensure Vol-" he flinched. "You-Know-Who is defeated" I finished lamely.

"I-uh-I. I need to get out of here. I need to talk with Uncle Sev. I just . . . I just need to think Granger."

My eyes narrowed. "Okay. You have three days, but I _sincerely_ hope you don't need that many. We're quite short on time as it is."

I glanced at the clock. "I need to meet Harry and Ron soon anyways." I stood and walked to the door. "Send me an owl Malf-Draco."

—————————————————

The door swung slowly shut behind Granger, and I let a breath out slowly.

_She had seen right through me? How had I let this happen?_

_I'm going to die._

_I'm going to die._

_I'm going to die._

_My mother is going to die. My father is going to die. Uncle Sev is going to die. Hermione-fucking-Granger is going to die._

"FUUUUUUCK!" I screamed. "GODS-FUCKING-DAMMIT!"

How did this happen? How did it all come to this? How could Uncle Sev tell her all of those things and think she could fucking _do_ something about it?

I growled in irritation and fisted my hands in my hair. I needed air. I needed a good fly. I needed a bloody drink.

Hogwarts hadn't prepared us for this—for war. I wasn't prepared for any of this. I didn't have a contingency plan.

_I am going to die._

I couldn't trust her, could I? How could I? I'd done nothing but make her fucking miserable since her first year here. Her first introduction to the magical world had been tainted by me. How could she even want to marry me?

She never said she _wanted_ to marry me. Just that we had to get married.

I turned and headed to exit the room and paused, taking in a deep breath. I was supposed to meet Mother in Hogsmeade today. And I had something to ask of her.

The room would produce clothes but they'd disappear once I exited the room. But I could ask for a short passage into my dormitory.

I closed my eyes and silently asked the room for what I needed and grinned crookedly when I saw the door appear.

I had to descend quite a few stairs before I reached the other door and each step down seemed to be colder and colder. The chill of the dungeons beneath the lake.

Making myself presentable was easy work. I'd already showered and brushed my teeth courtesy of The Room, and all I needed to do was dress and brush my hair.

The trek to Hogsmeade was a chilly one. All the warming charms in the world couldn't protect against the harsh winds of Scotland. My dragonhide gloves shielded my fingers and my scarf covered most of my neck but my face was bitten by wind and snow.

By the time I reached the Hogs Head Inn my mouth was chapped and raw. I nodded to the barkeep and continued walking to the room in the back. Mother always reserved a private room for us to meet. She wouldn't deign to be seen in such a dodgy place as this, and so she preferred the secret door through the back.

"Dragon!" She stood and glided across the floor to me, gripping my shoulders and looking squarely into my eyes. The bright blue of her eyes saw into my soul, and they flooded with tears at what they detected there.

"Oh my dear. My darling dragon." She kissed my cheek, and pulled me by the hand to the small couch along the wall.

Her glamours shimmered in the lamplight as she poured our tea from the porcelain kettle, and I could see the bags under her eyes and the frailness of her face. In that moment, it frightened me.

"Are you well, Mother?" I asked simply, heart thundering in my chest.

"Oh, I'm quite alright, Draco. Working to keep the manor in tip top shape for our familial guests is quite tiresome, but their visit is going splendidly. And yourself? How are your classes going?"

_The death eaters are destroying our home, and I'm exhausted from playing host. I haven't been tortured much. How is your task going?_

"Well, Mother. Please also tell Father and give my regards to my aunt."

_Please reiterate to The Dark Lord that I'm doing my best and the plan is coming along._

"That's wonderful, my dragon. I have a few letters for you. Why tire Leviathan when I'd see you today?" She laughed falsely.

_I couldn't risk delivering these by post._

"Mother, there's something I need to tell you."

She wove her fingers with mine. "Yes, love? You can tell me anything."

"There are rumors around school. About Potters mudblood—"

"Watch your tongue in polite company, Dragon! There is no need for nastiness in the midst of nice conversation." She chastened.

"Yes, Mother, of course. My apologies." I tilted my head.

Even if I was a fucking death eater, my mother expected me to behave with the utmost respect and dignity. I wasn't sure how my father had managed it—doing what he did and coming home to play the perfect gentleman for my mother.

"It's just—" I licked my lips and leaned forward. "It's just that I've heard certain . . . _things_ about her. I want you to listen for me, Mother. I need to know if what I hear is true."

She looked at me blankly. "The Granger girl, yes?" She asked after some time.

"Yes, Mother. Thank you." She nodded. I sat back and slung my right arm over her shoulders, frowning at how sharp and slim her frame seemed to be. "Are you eating, Mother?"

Her left hand pat my knee as her right cradled her teacup. She leaned into my side and let loose a shuddered breath.

"I think your father and I are faring as well as we can, my dragon. We only fear for you now."

My right hand slid up her shoulder to rest in her hair, and it felt course and much thinner than the glamour led to believe. I pet her curls and murmured, "We'll _all_ be alright, Mother. I've got a plan."

...

How'd you like Draco's perspective???

-Daisy


	8. HogsHead

AN: two updates in one day because I want you guys to know that I love you.

As always, the world belongs to JK Rowling. I'm just playing in it.

-Daisy

…………………………..

_Dearest Draco,_

_Forgive me. There are no other words to say that which I wish to express. I am filled with terror at what might become of you, and of your father. I worry not about myself._

_My sisters rage and insanity know no bounds. Your father was twitching for three days after she and her wicked wand had their way with him. I fear she is no longer herself at all if the threats thrown at me are any indication. She's never threatened me before, Dragon. This worries me. It seems to me that any extra time with The Dark Lord is carving out what was left of her intellect._

_He is impatient. Please do not fail, my beautiful baby boy. I could not bear a world without you in it. It seems as if you were but a babe in my arms just yesterday. Time has moved so swiftly I am unsure what to do with myself. I want to weep for your short childhood. I want to erase the badness from your life and replace it with happiness and a household of love. I envy that of the Weasleys. The children, the loud life full of love._

_I don't know what my next step as matriarch should be._

_Should I find you a wife and pen a contract or should I construct some illegal portkey and send you to America? I know that's no longer an option, but the thought still plagues me. Shall I plan a ball to parade you in front of the families, Dragon? Would you like that?_

_Your father worries not of these things. He drinking his days away. I haven't been able to find another wand to respond to him. He fears he's become a squib. I think he drinks too much._

_Don't hesitate to ask Severus for anything—or any help—you may need, and if you find you have an urgent need for me, I am but a floo call to the ladies parlor away._

_Forgive me, Dragon. I am so sorry._

_Mother_

_…………………………….._

I wiped the tears from my eyes angrily. My mother didn't deserve this. My father, maybe, but my mother was a godsdamned saint.

I'd taken the time in the private room to read through my letters. I'd read my mother's first, as I dreaded the others.

I recognized the handwriting of my Aunt Bella. The paper resembled her amidst its peers. The letter from my mother has been written on her usual card stock, lilywhite and bordered with blooming narcissus. The other was tiny like a business card, but no less white. Aunt Bella's, however, was yellowed and holey.

I opened it and swallowed dryly at what I saw.

_You have a deadline, nephew. June 30. Do not disappoint Our Lord._

The breath rushed out of my lungs. That was my deadline. It made sense, being the last full day of term. He wanted all of the students to be there. To know that Hogwarts was no longer safe, no longer home.

My chest felt constricted, and as I lit the paper on fire with my wand, it only got tighter.

_Should I have kept that? For Granger?_

_Fuck!_

How was I considering this? It was asinine, insane, absolutely barmy.

_Except it makes sense, and I just don't want to risk myself._

_Or my mother._

_Except she's at risk already._

I sucked in air through my nose and glanced at the last missive on the coffee table. It was written on a small square of embossed paper.

_FINISH IT_

A fist seemed to work it's way around my heart and it felt like my ribs were collapsing into my lungs. As if my chest had just turned into a cold vacuum, an empty blackness appearing between my shoulders and my hips.

I couldn't breathe. I leaned back on the couch and clawed at my tie, loosening it slightly. I felt lightheaded.

Dark spots appeared in my vision and all of the noise around me faded to a calm hum.

_I'm going to die._

And I was gone.

…………………………………..

When I drifted awake, it was to the sound of distant yelling. My face was pressed into the arm of the couch and my left boot had somehow become unlaced and lay sideways on the floor.

My wand lay beside the small paper square and I quickly grabbed it. I didn't look as I cast an _incendio_ then winced at the scorch mark on the table I'd left.

A quick _tempus_ told me it was three o'clock, and I had plenty of time to peruse the shops in Hogsmeade.

And still I sat there, staring at the scorched spot in the light wood.

_What the fuck did The Dark Lord curse that paper with?_

I'd thought I was dying. _Dying_.

Dumbledore had to die.

I couldn't do it anymore. The uncertainty. I needed to be in His good graces when I went back to the manor. When _we _went to the manor.

The Dark Lord had to die too.

Breaths shuddered in and out of my lungs slowly. June thirtieth. Seventeen weeks.

Seventeen weeks to 'charm' Granger and supposedly sway her to the dark side. Seventeen weeks to fully shield my mind. Seventeen weeks to kill Dumbledore. Seventeen weeks.

And what then? We'd go home? To the manor? I'd spy for the Order? How was this going to unfold?

I glanced around the sparse room as I shoved my foot into my discarded boot and did the laces up.

I stopped by the bar on my way out, handing the bearded man a handful of galleons.

He looked at me quizzically.

"I damaged the coffee table. My apologies." I said stiffly.

He laughed and ran his fingers across the bar. "Alrigh' Mr. Malfoy. Appreciate it. I'll order me a new one, one I think your mama'll like."

I inclined my head. "Could I get three fingers of Ogden's Finest please?"

"Comin' righ' up."

There were a couple witches from Hogwarts whispering closely together in a corner booth. A fellow Slytherin, Merosa Clap, sitting with a thick Hufflepuff blonde.

_Are they friends? Are they talking about me?_

Those thoughts faded as I watched the blonde kiss Merosa slowly.

_Oh_.

That's why they were here. Homosexuality was taboo. Not forbidden, but very frowned upon and seen as disgusting by most of Wizarding England. Students didn't usually frequent The Hogs Head.

If you were a homosexual, you still had all of the same expectations pressed upon you. However, after producing an heir, each spouse usually seeked other bedfellows. To flaunt their relationship in public was a very dangerous choice.

The barkeep—_I should know his name_—slid my glass across the bar, and I gulped it down quickly, wincing at the burn. A little spilled out the corners of my mouth, and I wiped my chin clean with my sleeve.

_At least Mother wasn't here to see that._


	9. The First Move

AN: 19 hearts and 50 follows! Yaaaaaay! I'm privileged to garner even an iota of your attentions, and I shall live to continue to write, if only for you all, and myself.

Honestly, I have no clue what lies ahead for this story. I have a very generalized guideline and I just seem to go with the flow.

I am in search of a beta, but I haven't found quite He right fit for this story. If anyone would like to take it on or has an idea of who best to do so, please pm me.

All my love,

Daisy

As always, the world belongs to JK Rowling. I'm just playing in it.

...

The rest of my afternoon flitted by quickly.

Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop had new quills that drew upon an ink pot automatically. I bought five.

At Honeydukes I purchased two bags of chocolate frogs and a bag of sugar quills. I was two shops away when I turned back to grab another thing of sugar quills.

Lastly I stopped at Tomes and Scrolls. There wasn't much in the way of what I was looking for as it wasn't very popular among students or most magicals, and they only had a few choices. I'd have to owl Mother for a more appropriate selection if the library had nothing to offer.

I saw Granger walking with Potter and the Weasel back to Hogwarts and groaned internally. They were laughing and shoving one another, and I winced as I saw the red head put a handful of snow down the back of Potters coat.

"Ron! Too far! Too cold!" He screeched, dancing around with his hand behind his head, resembling a monkey.

Weasley and Granger were standing to the side giggling in amusement. I'd pass by in a moment, even if I really didn't want to.

When they noticed me walking closer, Weasley took his wand in hand and sneered openly.

Potter was shivering, rolling his back this way and that. His face fell when he saw me, and I saw him pull himself straight, seemingly taller and a lot more broad. He too, had taken his wand in hand. Watching the childish glee die on his face so quickly sobered me, the artificial warmth of the whiskey settling in my stomach like a ball of fire.

Granger, however, merely rose a thin brown brow at me.

I continued through their trio quickly, my steps towards the castle coming fast and then faster.

"Well that was a bit odd, wasn't it?" He heard Granger ask the Dumb Duo.

I didn't look back and I couldn't hear their replies aside from incomprehensible murmuring.

I needed to pay a visit to Uncle Sev. First, however, I needed to go to the library. I couldn't be bothered with their bullshit right now.

The trip to the library was slow, and as the feeling slowly returned to my face, I no longer felt like an icicle. I surrendered my scarf and shed my coat to the rack adjacent to the library door, watching as it shivered violently to shake away the excess snow.

Madam Pince shot a glare my way as the snow melted into her carpet. Oops.

Our relationship had been tense since my father had gotten her daughter let go from the Department of Magical Creatures. Stacy Pince had been in a secret relationship with a centaur named O'Freyer. He was supposed to be their communications head, but when his herd leader had heard of his pack mates egregious actions, O'Freyer had been put to death by quartering.

Stacy Pince had commited suicide three days later, and her mother had never had a kind word or action towards me since.

I shook away these depressing thoughts and headed to the miscellaneous aisle. All of the odd books were put away here.

Derek Jeter: an Autobiography

Toadstools and Their Practical Uses

The Diary of Anne Frank

Gnomes and Why They Bite

After searching for a half hour, my shoulders slumped in resignation. I'd have to ask Mother and deal with her questions.

The trip to the Slytherin common room from the library wasn't too terribly long, but I did have to pass the kitchens to get there, and I took that opportunity to drop in and grab an apple, having skipped lunch.

Uncle Sev wouldn't be back until late evening, at best. The dull burning of my mark had alerted me in the shower this morning that someone nearby had been summoned, and he was the only option.

I'd have to wait until after dinner to speak with him, and a tendril of unease curled around my heart.

If The Dark Lord even so much as glimpses my conversation with Granger, Uncle Sev and I will be dead with a couple of fast 'Avada Kedavra's'

So will Mother.

I sent an owl to mother and laid in my dorm for hours, just staring at the ceiling and thinking.

Mostly about Granger. We'd have to get married, she'd said. Married. Which meant we'd have to have sex, at least once.

I winced. I may not have believed muggleborns and muggles needed to be killed or enslaved, but it went against everything I'd ever been taught to fuck one—to marry one. Or, gods forbid, breed with one.

I'd be cast out of the family faster than they could say Andromeda if they found out, when they found out after the war, if we ever made it that far.

It's not that Granger was unattractive. She was, in fact, the opposite. She had quite the shape under her robes. Last year for our first Hogsmeade weekend she'd worn something muggles called 'jeans' and a tighter-than-normal t-shirt.

All of the boys had seen her slightly larger than average bosom, and her shapely heart shaped bottom. I'd been no exception.

Her tan skin seemed to glow in the Scottish sun, and her riotous curls seemed to just go with her now. When we'd been small children they'd seemed large and bushy on her small head, but now they just seemed to compliment her honey colored eyes and pouty lips.

I turned onto my stomach and groaned at the pressure the bed put on my burgeoning erection.

See, my mind taunted, you do want to fuck her.

Maybe I did. I was a red blooded male after all. But I wasn't sure I could fuck her and pretend not to have any feelings about it—any disinclinations.

I groaned and fisted my left hand in the hair at the back of my head, scratching absently.

I heard the clock tower ring six times and groaned—thirty minutes till dinner.

Tap, tap, tap.

I lifted my head and smiled. Mother was prompt as usual. It must've taken her only few minutes to find and send what I'd asked for.

I made my way to the window and smiled at Leviathan. He was my owl now, but he'd been Father's before he was mine. Leviathan was 18 years old, but he still made trips. I couldn't believe Mother had sent him with a package of this size.

I fished a few owl treats from a jar and laid a couple at his feet, leaning a bit to untie the parcel from his foot.

Scribbled across the paper that wrapped around the books was a message from my mother.

I'll leave you alone for now, but I expect answers soon. Keep Leviathan with you.

Love, Mother.

I grinned as I read the title of the book she'd sent.

Poems for Palpitations: a Collection Of Love Poems for Wooing Witches

……………………………

Uncle Sev wasn't present at dinner, and I scowled.

I sat with my usual group at the Slytherin table, but none of my so-called friends spoke to me. As children of my fellow death eaters, they knew my status. They also knew that they were next, and I suppose no one wanted to look at their terrifying future, much less talk to it.

I ate dinner quickly, my roast beef and potatoes tasting like ashes in my mouth. I kept glancing furtively at the Gryffindor table, at the golden trio.

Potter and Granger sat side by side facing me across from the Weasel and the she-Weasel. Their red hail was unmistakable.

I stood and walked slowly towards their table and grinned. I acknowledged Granger with a nod and a small wave of my right hand. "Granger. Good evening."

Both Weasels turned around and their mouths dropped open, but Potter only looked towards Granger with a flabbergasted expression.

"I've got something for you. I was trying to think of what you like, but the only things i have to go on are stuff I've learned in class, so I hope you like them. Have a good evening."

I nodded at Granger one last time before spinning on my heel and exiting the hall. A humongous grin split my face as I heard the Weasel yelling after me.

Sure, what I was doing was dangerous. What we were going to do was dangerous. But nobody had told me I couldn't have fun with it too.


	10. Distancing

AN: Honestly, this chapter was rough for me. I wrote three different versions before settling on this one. It's hard to write about relationships between friends and partnerships when you're as socially awkward as I am.

Anywho, I've signed up for an online writers workshop so hopefully that'll help me write even just a teensy bit better, and then it will have been worth it.

I love every single person that takes the time out of their day—or night—to read my work and I collectively thank you all.

As always, this is JK Rowling's world. I'm just playing in it

-Daisy

...…………………

"What the bloody hell was that about, then?" Ron cried.

"Hey, ya fuck-wit! I'm talking to you!" He yelled at Draco's back.

The blonde in question simply threw his right hand up and continued strolling out of the great hall, never once looking back.

_He's in._

_Yes._

My mind whirled. That hadn't taken long. I looked down at the items in my hand and felt my eyes widen in surprise.

Sugar quills, a very nice new quill, and a book. A book of _poetry_.

_He was in and he was fucking great at wooing witches. If he was anyone else showing me this sudden attention I'd be blushing._

I might've been blushing already, but that was more than likely due to Harry's incredulous gaze.

"Hermione," he murmured, bright green eyes searching mine, "why is Malfoy being nice to you?"

I opened my mouth to answer, only to be interrupted by Ron.

"_Nice_ to her? He isn't _actually_ being nice, Harry! He's trying to curse her, isn't he? Put them down, Mione!"

His freckled—and also gravy speckled—paw clubbed my arm and I pulled back with a hiss, my 'presents' thumping to the table and inadvertently flinging a spoonful of potato into Seamus' face.

"Oy! Watch out with that shite!" His Irish brogue came simultaneously with my anger.

"Ron! What the fuck? He gave me these in front of everyone. You think he's evil, sure, but _I_ know that _you_ know he isn't bloody stupid."

"But, Mione!"

"But, Hermione—_nothing_! My arm is going to bruise!"

His blue eyes softened, but my glare didn't. I wanted to laugh and forgive him. His round handsome face was so sweet and comforting and I felt my lip quiver before wrestling it into obedience.

This was the beginning of the end—and I needed to act like it. I needed to start pulling away from them, my best friends.

I outwardly bristled and gathered my things. I tossed my hair behind my shoulder as I stood. "I'm going to the library. Why don't you two try to get through your transfiguration homework _on your own_ for once?"

I didn't stay to see the looks on their faces, and neither did I go to the library. I carried my messenger bag to the astronomy tower, glad to see it was vacant.

It was a wonder I ever got lucky like this. The astronomy tower was the place for snogging . . . and other _things_.

I could feel my face reddening as I began my essay for McGonagalls class. The moonlight wasn't quite bright enough for homework, but a quick lumos provided more than enough light. The weather was less than desirable. I kept casting warming charms on my clothes and the small pallet I'd conjured to lay upon, but it didn't seem to be enough. Warming charms could only do so much.

I sighed and let my face fall into the crook of my arm. How could my life have come to this? I had at most four months to complete occlumency training and otherwise, along with getting engaged and married to Malfoy.

I needed to toughen up. This was the easy part, before the rumors started circling faster and faster, before I was supposed to become a frozen pureblood princess, before I had to turn my back on everyone and everything I knew. All to keep one spy, and gain another.

It was well worth it, I knew, but the bitter taste in my mouth left nothing to be desired.

How had we let Dumbledore use us for so long?

Our first year, finding our way past Fluffy and the devils snare, the potions riddle, the keys and the chess set; it had all been a test. Testing us to see if we performed well together.

Apparently we had. Second year, my petrifaction had lasted longer than any of the others. Dumbledore has needed to see if Harry and Ron could problem solve on their own. I was the muggleborn after all—I might've been carted away directly after school, before we'd even attempted our task.

A task of which we had no clue what to expect.

Dumbledore wasn't even going to try to offer Draco a safe house. Sure, we were all children, but every person that chose to fight for the light _had_ chosen to do so.

Draco has been born with expectations. He'd had no chance.

Tears fell from my eyes.

The Triwizard Tournament—had the imposter truly put Harry's name in the goblet of fire? Or had Dumbledore?

Last year, the Department of Mysteries—had Sirius needed to die? Was everything a set up? Did he just need us there to hear the prophecy? Need _Harry_ there to hear his destiny?

Was mine and Harry and Ron's relationship just one large fabrication? Would they have ever been my friends if it hadn't been for the meddling schemes of an old man?

Professor Snape hadn't been able to confirm or deny the headmasters involvement with the troll, but I had an inkling I was right.

We'd been played into one big clusterfuck of a war.

Deep sobs penetrated my chest as the chill surrounding my shoulders seemed to grow worse. It was only when I heard the rain start to patter on the stone lip of the tower did I look up, tears leaving cold trails on my cheeks.

I needed to get back to the tower. Tomorrow was Sunday, and I'd be sending an owl to Malfoy with the intentions of meeting. We'd need to begin planning as soon as possible.

I gathered my things and crammed my book into my bag, applying a shrinking charm and vanishing my blanket. I brought my robes around me and started down the rather steep stairs that led to the corridor.

Passing along the portraits of old wizarding history I sighed and sniffled.

The fate of the wizarding world—and subsequently the mortal one—rested on a few teenagers. Who'd have thunk it?


	11. Sunday

Sunday began the same as any other day. I awoke earlier than any of my classmates, enjoyed a steaming hot shower, and looked over my homework in the common room. I'd waited on Harry and Ron for breakfast for the past five years, and I'd always detested it, wishing they would at least wake up earlier to rush through their homework rather than try to scribble something incomprehensible at breakfast, or even worse, at the beginning of a lesson.

Now, however, there was a nagging in my abdomen, a cruel twisting in my stomach telling me I only had a few more of these mornings. I should soak up as much time as I could before it ran out.

They needed to enjoy it too. They wouldn't, of course. I was going to be pulling back. I probably wouldn't enjoy it either.

But I still need to memorize everything, I thought as the objects of my thoughts came shuffling down the boys staircase.

Harry's freshly brushed yet somehow still messy hair. The darker shade of Ron's red hair and the way it clung to his forehead. Harry's awkwardness, Rons obliviousness. Harry's inability to keep his glasses clean and his shirts pressed. Ron's singular dimple and thick full lips. Harry's bravery. Ron's heart. Ron's family.

I wouldn't have a wizarding family that really loves me anymore, if I somehow managed to even survive.

If they manage to survive.

My throat constricted, and my greeting was squeaked and quiet.

Ron looked at me oddly and my face burned. "G'morning, 'Mione."

He wrapped his arms around my shoulders and kissed my forehead, and my cheeks got hotter.

I hugged him and rested my face against his chest.

When I pulled away the tips of his ears stood out against his hair, burning bright red. He cleared his throat and smiled.

"Good morning, Ron. Harry." I rubbed my hand on Harry's arm. "Sleep well?"

"Yeah, alright I guess."

Ron scrunched his nose and waved his hand in a so-so motion. "I'm just starving. Can we head to breakfast?"

"Yeah just let me gather my things." I quickly stuck my parchment into my textbook and stuffed it into my overworked bag.

As we stepped through the portrait hole, Harry asked how I had slept.

"Meh. I dozed on and off. Don't really feel rested, if you know what I mean."

"Yeah, yeah." He nodded. "So what was that about? Yesterday, I mean."

"I honestly haven't a clue, Harry. Malfoys probably just messing with us—with me. Just ignore him and he'll find someone else to bother."

His face turned doubtful.

"He won't ever find someone else to bother, Hermione. He never has."

"Yes, well. I didn't eat the sugar quills, if that's what you're worried about. Although nothing was cursed or tampered with at all."

Harry stared hard at Ron's back, his hunger-hastened pace putting him out of earshot.

"I just want you to be careful Hermione. Don't take anything from anyone, especially Draco Malfoy without checking for curses first. I've told Ron the same. It's not exactly safe to be my friend, yeah?"

"Oh, Harry. Look, I'll be careful. But—there's something I have to tell you guys later…" I bit my lip and winced at his aggravated expression.

"I promise I'll tell you later, directly after lunch. I want to spend this morning studying and if you take this news hard, I'll be alright studying afterwards too, and you both can process together, okay?"

"Blimey, Hermione. Is it something bad?"

"Not really bad. It just might change how you guys think of me. And I didn't want to tell anyone but it appears to have gotten out, and you should hear it from me, not anyone else."

"Okay…."

After breakfast, Harry and I were almost to the library when he brought it up again. Ron had, as usual, decided to forego the library in favor of taking a morning nap. We were both quite surprised when Harry opted to join me in studying.

"How am I supposed to wait until after lunch, Hermione? I'm worried."

I placed my hand on his arm. "Harry, I want to tell you both at once. I-It's hard to talk about. Please, just drop it."

His emerald eyes rolled to the ceiling and he huffed. "Whatever. Look, I still can't figure out how to get the memory from Slughorn. I need your help."

I sighed. "Harry…. I can't help you with this. You're the best in his class now and the bloody chosen one and he worships the ground you walk ok. Ask more directly! Tell him you need this information to defeat him!" I couldn't keep the irritation out of my voice—that damned potions book.

"I can't do that!" he cried indignantly. Madam Pince gave us a harsh glance.

"Shhh. And why not? He won't openly support the Order or Voldemort. That doesn't mean he wants him to win. The worse he can say is no. Now, if you aren't going to be of any help here, why don't you go play wizarding chess or take a nap like Ron." I flicked my fingers inirritation.

Harry sighed and put his hand over mine. It was warm and a little sweaty but it made my anger soften.

"I'm gonna stay here and do some homework with my best gal, alright? If only she could remind me which essay is due on Monday."

I grinned at him and laced my fingers with his quickly before leaning back to reach into my bag, pulling out my planner.

"Oh, there's actually two due tomorrow! Defense and History of Magic."

Harry snorted. "One for me. No one past third year takes History of Magic, Hermione. No one except you."

I bristled. "Yes, well, there are seven years of lessons offered for a reason. History is very important."

He chuckled and asked the topic of our defense paper.

"The theory behind wandless, wordless magic and it's benefits."

We got to work quickly, and Harry finished most of his essay before lunch. I slapped the finishing touches on mine and worked on my essay for History of Magic until 12, when we headed to lunch.

It wasn't that I didn't love Harry, I just didn't love him the same as he loved me. This year, anyways. It'd always been Ginny for him, until it got around school that she'd opened her legs for more than half our year. Promiscuity was tantamount to social suicide, and she'd more than likely never find a 'suitable' husband now. She wanted a man of means and a certain standing.

The muggleborns—including me—didn't understand that about the wizarding world, but things were the way they were. Virginity was a laughing stock in the small town I was from. Most lost theirs at 13 or 14 and slept with anyone they wanted.

Not me—I'd never been with anyone that way, and I wasn't very interested in the impracticality of it. All the sweat and embarrassment that came with sex—who needed that?

I was perfectly content with my books, thank you very much. The only problem with my bibliophilia is that it was harder for me to determine if someone was flirting or not.

Lunch was a quick affair. I wanted to gape at Ron for devouring a whole chicken, but I wouldn't want to give him a complex.

When we got back to the common room, I opted to follow them up to their dormitory, rather than discuss all of my 'business' in public.

"Why'd we come up here, 'Mione?" Ron asked.

I perched on the end of Seamus' bed with a grimace—teenage boys were disgusting. There were robes and underwear all over the floor and I'd tripped on a shoe on my way in the door.

"Well, Ron, I have to tell you guys something." I looked down at the floor. "Harry, Friday night when I borrowed the cloak and the map, I was going to see Professor Snape. See, at the beginning of this year, my mum hurt herself." When they made to open their mouths, I quickly added, "She's fine! She just needed some blood. And I wasn't a match. In fact, both of my parents are type O, and mine is type A."

Harry's eyes widened in understanding. Ron just looked confused.

"What does that mean?" He asked.

"It means ...that she's adopted, right Hermione?" Harry asked slowly.

I grimaced. "Kind of. My parents think I'm their biological child. There are holes in their memories from the day I was born. Their baby died and someone replaced him or her with me."

"But what does that have to do with Snape?" Harry's eyes shone with worry and his brows furrowed.

"He brewed me a familia revelatum potion. The paternity potion. He's been brewing since the beginning of term, and he just finished Friday. I-um-I was very surprised at the results. I'd been hoping to keep this to myself, because it doesn't really change anything, but I can't. It's gotten out somehow. Haven't you noticed the stares?"

Harry scowled. "People always stare. How are we supposed to know the difference?"

"Who are your real parents, 'Mione? Why didn't you want to tell us?" Rons voice came softly.

I closed my eyes and thought of them in that moment—how open and loving they were—and let a few tears slide down my cheeks.

I opened my eyes, straightened my back, and looked back and forth into their eyes.

"My parents were Vineous and Valeria Charleston."


	12. Friends

AN: writers block is a bitch. That is all. Sorry about the shitty chapter :(

Love you all

-Daisy

...………

Ron's astonished gasp was drowned out by Harry.

"Who are they? What does that mean?"

"It means she's a pureblood, mate. Not just a pureblood, but, like, the purest of them all. The lost Charleston twins have been gone since before You-Know-Who died for the first time. It's why her, um ...parents were killed."

We turned our heads towards Ron with surprised looks and he immediately turned red and snapped, " I _do_ have a brain, ya know!"

"Sorry Ron!" We exclaimed in unison. Harry looked at me and grinned, the expression making him look a lot younger than he seemed at times.

"I _am_ sorry for not telling you immediately. I should've known it would've gotten out somehow."

"The foul git told his Slytherins, Hermione. You couldn't _guess_ that would happen?"

"I needed someone to brew the potion, Ron! Slughorn hadn't the time and I needed to know! Don't _you_ two understand how hard this is for me? My _parents_ aren't even my parents! My real mum and dad were best friends with Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy! They were _deatheaters_! You-Know-Who's biggest supporters!" I screeched. I had stood and begun pacing, wringing my hands together before finally throwing them into the air in anger.

Ron looked down at the floor shamefaced but Harry moved to stand in front of me. He places his hands on my shoulders and looked into my eyes.

"_You_ are Hermione Granger. You grew up muggleborn, so what if you're really not? Think of it this way. Your real parents gave you to people they knew would love you no matter what you are. You are an amazing girl, Hermione. You can do anything, and that's not because of the people that made you. It's because of the Grangers, your _real_ mum and dad."

I was a cow. An utterly hideous cow. These were the people that had stood with me through everything and would continue to do so until I hurt them enough. I was going to have to actively _kill_ my relationship with them both.

A few tears fell from my eyes as I hugged Harry.

"Yeah, you'd never have been our friend if you'd grown up with Malfoy."

"Ron!" I laughed

"What? It's true!" We all laughed.

"I love you guys."

"We love you too, 'Mione." said Ron.

"Love _you_, Hermione." Came Harry's voice, husky and soft.

The small smile I'd developed slid off of my face as Ron narrowed his eyes at Harry.

_Yeah that little crush of his is gonna have to go. Hell, both of theirs_.

…………………………………..

We spent the rest of the day in the common room by the fire. I finished my History of Magic essay while the boys played wizarding chess and then we all enjoyed a few games of exploding snap

Lavender sat in a chair in the corner, watching Ron and crying.

Ron sat on the couch to my left, Harry to my right, and Dean to his right.

"Ron, why don't you talk to Lavender? She's been crying buckets for days."

He looked at me guiltily. "I already did yesterday. She wants me back but I told her...I told her I was interested in someone else." His face turned hopeful.

Harry's hand tightened on my knee

"Oh, Ron. At least you were honest. But you've got to do something else. She can't just sit there and cry all the time. maybe you two could even fix things. You could hear her out and explain to her all of the things that bothered you?"

"She was annoying. That's what bothered me."

I raised a brow and looked at him incredulously.

"Mate, you shouldn't say that. You kind of owe her. Blimey, Ron, she obviously loves you and she's making herself sick over it. The least you could do is try to be her friend." Harry piped up indignantly.

"Yeah, Ron. Maybe if she could be around you as a friend it would help her." I nudged his shoulder with mine.

"Just don't count on us to spend too much time with her." Harry winked.

We all laughed.

………………………………………..

I managed to sneak away before dinner to send an owl to Professor Snape and Malfoy.

Malfoy sent his owl before dinner ended. We'd be meeting in the room at eleven. He hadn't heard from or seen Snape either.

Had Voldemort found us out and killed him? No, Malfoy would already be dead.

He could be brewing. He could be planning lessons. He could be on a mission—but for which master?

Where was Professor Snape?

I was taken out of my pondering as a carrot hit my nose, and I scowled.

"Ron!"

"Well, blimey, Hermione, We've been calling your name for ages! Had to do something, didn't we? Dinner is almost over and you haven't touched your plate."

I looked down at the hearty beef stew and sighed, ladling a small spoonful into my mouth. It tasted like dry ashes on my tongue, but I knew I needed to be properly fed to practice with Malfoy.

I ate half of the bowl, and with Ron breathing down my neck like a malnourished hyena, let him finish the rest.

It was much easier to get away this time, as I still held the cloak and the map hostage.

The last I'd seen, Lavender was curled into her chair in the common room, quietly sobbing whilst watching Ron. Parvati and she had gotten into a fight, and she was somewhere in the castle 'getting her snog on with the cutest fifth year at Hogwarts!'

I'd drawn the curtains around my bed and slipped out of the door quietly, the cloak wrapped around me tight.

It was two minutes to curfew, and I knew there'd be an influx of students through the portraithole any second. There was an hour until I was supposed to meet Malfoy, but I could use the time to plan and strategize, maybe even practice dueling some dummies until eleven. At least I could be productive and stop worrying over Professor Snape.


	13. Perception

AN: So, is hating everything you write an author thing? Asking for a friend—maybe not.

Oh well.

Try to enjoy. :)

-Daisy

The room was filled with soft music, the falls and swells of the piece falling over my ears like waves.

Instead of Draco sleeping on the keys, he was leaning back and forth over them, his face pinched in concentration and his long fingers flying deftly across the piano.

He was in such a state of concentration that he didn't hear me enter, and instead of embarrassing him, I left the cloak on and sat against one of the columns.

He played well into the hour, song after song after song. It was closer to eleven when he finished playing and quietly whispered, "Thank you. The drawing room, please."

His quiet murmuring of manners made me smile slightly. It was a room as any other, albeit magical, but just a room nonetheless.

The room shifted into a large round space, almost a ballroom, but there were chairs and a few tables against the wall. In the middle of the room a large throne dominated the marble and onyx patterned floor. A wave of nausea made its way into my throat as I realized this must be Voldemort's throne room in Malfoy manor. It was good thinking, to use this room. It'd most likely be where his skills would be tested.

He'd closed his eyes as he made the request and I took the chance to take off my cloak and shrink it, slipping it into my pocket.

"Granger!" He exclaimed. "H-how long have you been here?"

"Oh, not long. Just long enough to know you play the piano very well!" I smiled.

He blushed and then scowled as I quickly brought my wand up, uttering a very quiet, "Expelliarmus."

"I wasn't ready, Gra-Hermione! That doesn't count."

I laughed. "Do you think anyone on either side of this war will wait for you to be _ready_? Our first lesson is to take this seriously, Draco. We have to be ready for _anything, always_."

His scowl softened a little and his mouth twisted sheepishly. "So I guess I'd be dead wouldn't I?"

"_Extremely_, especially as you have no idea how to get your wand back, yeah?" I waggled his wand in the air, and we were both surprised when a few red sparks shot from the end.

"Errr, not really. I don't have a backup wand or anything. Granger, I-uh-I'm sorry I'm not very good at this. But I wanted you to know that I've asked Mother to listen out for any news on you. We will know soon if the news has made its way into the right circles."

"That's wonderful!" I grinned. "Professor Snape was our only way of knowing. We assumed he'd be called when Vol—The Dark Lord was informed, but that's even better!"

Noticing his flinch, I changed the name quickly. His grin at my praise, however, was slightly infectious and my eyes were again drawn to his. Though his and Ron's were both blue, there was a large difference in hue. Ron's were a bright ocean blue that stood out against his slightly tanned freckled skin. Draco's were like the sky on an overcast day—grey and rolling.

I had to shake my head slightly to remember what we'd even been discussing and blushed as I stammered slightly.

"Um, on our next Hogsmeade visit, we both need to get a spare wand, but magic isn't the only thing we'll be learning together. We need to learn how to fight."

I tossed his wand back to him and laughed at his flabbergasted expression. His pinkeyes cheeks and slight scowl made me regret the action, my stomach knotting.

"But . . . _Why_?"

I put my hand on my hip and raised a single brow. "Third year, when I punched you—"

"And almost broke my nose, yes I remember." His deepened scowl made me grin.

"Were you expecting that?"

His expression turned thoughtful. "Well, no. And none of the deatheaters or the order will have thought of it." He said slowly.

"Exactly! Snape was supposed to meet us here too but he still hasn't returned my owl. Have you spoken to him?"

"No. I'm actually quite worried. If he isn't in classes tomorrow I was going to ask Dumbledore's permission to floo home. Some kind of emergency, I'll say."

"No! You can't go home! Good lord, Draco! Your _mind is unprotected_. You've mastered occlumency, sure, but it needs to be second nature. You need to block your mind at all times! Legillimancy only requires eye contact if you're inexperienced. Don't you get it?!"

His face shuttered and his eyes closed tightly for a moment. "Yes, okay."

"Professor Snape has agreed to teach me occlumency but he's also said you can help tutor me. We're mainly meeting to practice dueling and for me to teach you a few self defense moves before Professor Snape teaches us some more. And, well, to become better acquainted with one another." I blushed.

"So, about that . . ."

"Yeah?"

"How'd I do yesterday?"

"Oh, perfectly! Tomorrow I was thinking you could start carrying my books and walking me to class."

"Ohhhhhh-kay. You're the boss, Grang—err, Hermione." He winked, grinning, and for the first time I noticed one of his bottom teeth was slightly shorter than the others, chipped.

"So, defensive spells . . ."

We dueled for a little over an hour before exhaustion took over and we laid on the hard floor catching our breaths. The air sizzled with our mixed magics, the colorful sparks falling into nothingness, fading in midair.

"With enough practice"—_huff, huff_—"we'll be able to actually have a chance of surviving battle. We just need to build up enough skill and stamina."

"Fuck"-_cough, cough_-"you, Granger." Draco wheezed. He was holding his right side.

I laughed slightly and then groaned as my shoulder ached with the movement. Casting had never left so much of a physical reminder. Then again, any fight I'd ever been in hadn't lasted more than twenty minutes.

"We should alternate."

I turned my head to meet his eyes. "Huh?"

"Next time we meet, we should spar. Time after, dueling again."

"No, the time after we should use to practice occlumency. I've already been reading everything I can find on the subject."

"Alright. I've got a book from a different sort of viewpoint if you'd like to borrow it."

"Yes, I'd love to! Thank you."

The meeting ended with a sweaty handshake and a quiet 'goodnight' from each of us.

That night I dreamt of sweaty blonde hair and grey blue eyes.


	14. Our Spy

AN: I've typed Rowling in my phone so many times that 'rolling' automatically corrects to 'Rowling' and I have to go back and fix it.

This chapter was a bitch to get out, as they _all_ seem to be. I've started writing a new story, Mental Health, if you'd like to read it. Please do, and let me know what you guys think.

I appreciate every single person that takes the time to read my writing. A special thanks to the people who've followed and favorited!

In this chapter of The Informant, we find Professor Snape.

As always, this world belongs to JK Rowling, and I'm just playing in it.

-Daisy

My relationship with Draco was tested Tuesday night. We were struggling to both fit under the cloak. He was crouched severely to keep our feet covered. It really was meant for the use of one person.

"Of course the bloody fucking Golden Trio have an _invisibility_ _cloak_. _I_ couldn't bring an eagle but _they_ got an invisibility cloak. _Fucking_ _wankers_."

"Alright! That's enough!" I whisper yelled.

"No it bloody well _isn't_ enough! Do you truly not realize how much you and your lot have gotten away with?"

"Yes, well, we _are_ the good guys, so . . . Wait, hey, I didn't mean it like that." I whispered, interpreting the silence as proof of Draco's anger.

"_Shhhh_. Mrs. Norris." He hissed.

We crept the final few feet to the tapestry of Morgana the Mermaid and Draco whispered the password quietly.

"_Lilium_."

As we entered the potion master's quarters I swallowed the reticence in my gut. Being out after curfew was one thing, breaking into a teachers quarters after curfew was another.

After Professor Snape had missed Monday's and Tuesday's lessons, Draco had owled me. He'd been planning to go alone, but I'd refused to let him. We were partners now and it played to our benefit to begin acting like it. This was just a benign rehearsal to the real thing.

We crept inside of the rooms quietly, and I was surprised to see we entered through the same door I'd entered with Professor Snape. The doorway must've been enchanted to allow entry from various points.

Striding across the sitting room, I gasped. Professor Snape was lying facedown on the rug in the front of his fireplace, dried blood surrounding his broken body. Stifling my shock at finding him like this, I quickly moved forward, casting diagnostic spells with my wand, praying to see something other than nothing.

"He's alive, barely." I called back to Draco, who was still frozen in fright behind his godfathers favored wingback chair.

His face was a painting of terror. "Uncle Sev?" He squeaked.

"Draco!" I snapped. "Where does he keep his potions?"

"Huh?"

"Where does he keep his potions?!"

"Uhm, his bedroom." He glanced side to side, seeming to come to his senses a bit, moving quickly to the door I assumed had led to Snape's bedroom. "What do you need?"

"All the pain potions you can find, skelegrow, blood replenishers, burn paste, dittany, Cancillers Concoction, and if you can find acromantula silk and essence of murtlap in there anywhere, I could use them too."

My wand never stopped waving. He had several broken bones that were already in the process of healing improperly. After vanishing his outer robes, stopping the natural bone regrowth came first, and then I aimed less powerful healing spells at the small scrapes and cuts marring his arms and legs. I cast my strongest cleansing charm beforehand, wincing at the small grunt of pain from my professor.

When Draco arrived, his arms full of the things I'd asked for, I had him help to turn his godfather over. We both winced at the sight of his even larger, and even more crooked, broken nose.

His eyes opened slightly as he landed on his back and he moaned pitifully, barely able to rustle a twitch of his fingers.

I quickly uncapped a pain potion, dribbling it through his thin parted lips. To my relief, he managed to swallow, but his eyes still closed.

I managed to get him to drink another before he fell completely unconscious, and I knew I'd need to do it now.

"_iterum_ _praevaricator_!" I intoned, slashing my wand in a Z motion.

Draco's swift intake of breath coincided with the sounds of multiple bones being rebroken. Tears fell down my face as Professor Snape's scream filled the room, his back arching. His now straight nose gushed blood, and a quick _episkey_ quickly set and healed it.

His back bowing had caused the large gash in his side to open, and as I pushed two more pain potions into Draco's hand, I grabbed the dittany and the Cancillers Concoction.

The Concoction was added first, cleaning the wound. Dittany was applied moments after. It was designed to immediately heal any tissue it came into contact with, but not to disinfect or remove debris. Cancillers Concoction was a new potion designed to help with this. A scourgify would also work, but it'd also cause a lot more bleeding, ripping away the coagulated blood clotting the wound. I dribbled a little more of both onto his foot, stunned to see his shoe was missing, along with all of the skin on his foot. The sight of the stark white tensions and bones against the almost black bloody meat made me slightly nauseous.

Draco took the initiative to pour the blood replenishers into Snapes throat as I crawled forward to kneel above his head. I took the dittany and essence of murtlap, mixing a little of each together with my wand in the air. They formed a creamy paste which I smeared onto the acromantula silk. I ignored Draco's quiet, "what are you _doing_, Granger," putting the silk onto the three gashes marring Professor Snape's right cheek. I finally applied the burn paste to his hands, knowing they'd more than likely not heal with dittany—could even be made worse—due to the passive absorption of potions ingredients through the skin.

He was murmuring and moving his head as we gave him his final two potions—a pain potion and skelegrow. I used my wand to petrify him, wincing and apologizing profusely even though he remained asleep.

We levitated him to his bed, wary of the doorway and the footboard. I left Draco to vanish the rest of his blood stained clothes and cover him up.

When Draco came to sit beside me on the worn rug, my hand resting on the large stain left behind, he pressed a small tumbler of whiskey into my other hand, quietly sipping his own.

"How close to dying was he, Hermione?" He whispered.

"_Very_."

"Fuck." He drained his glass. "I don't know how to do this—my godfather was hurt, needing my help and I _froze_." His words were bitter as he hung his head.

I placed my hand on his knee, sipping from my own whiskey. "I've been fighting longer than you." I said simply. "There are just…things you learn in the field and things you learn after the fact that could've saved someone's life, someone's limb, or prevented them from having a permanent scar. You'll learn. I wish you didn't—that _no_ _one_ had to. But we all do. We all will."

He nodded, and when I offered him the rest of my whiskey, a third of its contents having calmed me, he threw it back. We sat in silence for a while, whiskey along with the fire warming us.

"When do you need to _finite_ _incantatem_ Uncle Sev?"

"Eight hours. It's usually six, but he broke quite a lot of bones. I'd like to leave him under for at least that long."

"I'll, uh, administer a couple drops of dreamless sleep—er, if that's alright? He never gets beyond five hours, and I don't want him to just…lie there, unable to move." He stood.

"Go ahead." I nodded hesitantly, and grabbed his hand when it was offered, wavering on tired legs.

"I'm setting an alarm to wake me at nine thirty, and I'll unpetrify Professor Snape then, okay?"

"I have Magical Creatures at _nine_, and so do you Granger." Draco drawled, rolling his eyes.

"I'll scribe a note before bed to Hagrid and charm it to send itself to the owlery at eight forty-five. It'll have plenty of time to get to Hagrid before class."

"Ugh so it's me against the world tomorrow right? I'll have to go?"

"Well, yeah?"

He groaned in annoyance. "I'll have to deal with the Dumbass Duo, you realize that?"

"Perfectly. Just…" I sighed in annoyance, my eyes dropping closed a moment.

"Just be normal. Don't let on that you've seen me, alright?"

"If you say so. You left your common room at midnight and aren't there the next morning—you don't think they'll notice that?"

"Probably but it's not my duty to tell them where I am and what I'm doing, is it? They're not my parents."

"Nah, they're just your boyfriends." He snarked.

"Shut up and _go_ _away_, Malfoy. I'm exhausted. I need a bath, a cuppa, and a hug, not to mention a good night sleep. That's not going to come anytime soon, so please just...let me have a little nap before I have to tend to Professor Snape again."

I could see the gravity of the farce that was our lives bleed back into his face.

"Yeah, alright. Thanks, Grang—Hermione. I'll leave his potions cupboard open. It's in the wall by his bed, but if you shut it you won't be able to get back in."

"Alright." I grumbled as I settled onto the couch, pulling a thin ratty afghan to lay over me. I met Draco's eyes as he stood above me, shifting closer and closer to the door.

"My dorm is close enough to here. I'm going to try to get some sleep. I know I've already said it, but thank you, Granger. Uncle Sev may not be warm and cuddly, but he's family, and I _do_ love him."

"You're welcome, Draco. Besides, that's kind of the whole point of all of this, isn't it? Protecting our spy?"

"Yeah…well, goodnight."

"Goodnight."

With that, he climbed through the portrait hole, heading towards the Slytherin dorms. We'd actually worked together quite well tonight. Who knew?

I groaned as I realized I'd already forgotten to write Hagrid a note and rushed to it, eager to get to sleep. I used the excuse of having heavier than usual cramps, knowing he wouldn't question it or bring it up to anyone else due to embarrassment. I could picture his large cheeks reddening now.

After I climbed back onto the couch, determined to get some rest, before I knew it, I was fast asleep.


End file.
